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.Infact, I was pretty much unhurt, just in shock. How.why do you think it happened? Stress pure fear.I think my body did the only trick it could. Clare turns her face to mine, sad and excited. So. So.Mom died, and I didn t.The front end of the Ford crumpled up, the steering column went throughMom s chest, her head went through the now empty windshield and into the back of the truck, there wasanunbelievable amount of blood.The guy in the Corvette was unscathed.The truck driver got out of histruck to see what hit him, saw Mom, fainted on the road and was run over by a school bus driver whodidn t see him and was gawking at the accident.The truck driver had two broken legs.Meanwhile, I wascompletely absent from the scene for ten minutes and forty-seven seconds.I don t remember where Iwent; maybe it was only a second or two for me.Traffic came to a complete halt.Ambulances weretrying to come from three different directions and couldn t get near us for half an hour.Paramedics camerunning on foot.I appeared on the shoulder.The only person who saw me appear was a little girl; shewas in the back seat of a green Chevrolet station wagon.Her mouth opened, and she just stared andstared. But Henry, you were you said you don t remember.And how could you know this anyway? Tenminutes and forty-seven seconds? Exactly? I am quiet for a while, searching for the best way to explain. You know about gravity, right? The largersomething is, the more mass it has, the more gravitational pull it exerts? It pulls smaller things to it, and Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlthey orbit around and around? Yes. My mother dying.it s the pivotal thing.everything else goes around and around it.I dream about it,and I also time travel to it.Over and over.If you could be there, and could hover over the scene of theaccident, and you could see every detail of it, all the people, cars, trees, snowdrifts if you had enoughtime to really look at everything, you would see me.I am in cars, behind bushes, on the bridge, in a tree.I have seen it from every angle, I am even a participant in the aftermath: I called the airport from a nearbygas station to page my father with the message to come immediately to the hospital.I sat in the hospitalwaiting room and watched my father walk through on his way to find me.He looks gray and ravaged.Iwalked along the shoulder of the road, waiting for my young self to appear, and I put a blanket aroundmy thin child s shoulders.I looked into my small uncomprehending face, and I thought.I thought. I amweeping now.Clare wraps her arms around me and I cry soundlessly into her mohair-sweatered breasts. What? What, Henry? I thought,I should have died, too ! We hold each other.I gradually get hold of myself.I have made a mess of Clare s sweater.She goes tothe laundry room and comes back wearing one of Alicia s white polyester chamber music playing shirts.Alicia is only fourteen, but she s already taller and bigger than Clare.I stare at Clare, standing before me,and I am sorry to be here, sorry to ruin her Christmas. I m sorry, Clare.I didn t mean to put all this sadness on you.I just find Christmas.difficult. Oh, Henry! I m so glad you re here, and, you know, I d rather know I mean, you just come out ofnowhere, and disappear, and if I know things, about your life, you seem more.real.Even terrible things.I need to know as much as you can say. Alicia is calling down the stairs for Clare.It is time for Clare tojoin her family, to celebrate Christmas.I stand, and we kiss, cautiously, and Clare says Coming! andgives me a smile and then she s running up the stairs.I prop the chair under the door again and settle infor a long night.CHRISTMAS EVE, TWOSaturday, December 24, 1988 (Henry is 25)Henry:I call Dad and ask if he wants me to come over for dinner after the Christmas matinee concert.He makes a half-hearted attempt at inviting me but I back out, to his relief.The Official DeTamble Day ofMourning will be conducted in multiple locations this year.Mrs.Kim has gone to Korea to visit hersisters; I ve been watering her plants and taking in her mail.I call Ingrid Carmichel and ask her to comeout with me and she reminds me, crisply, that it s Christmas Eve and some people have families tokowtow to.I run through my address book.Everyone is out of town, or in town with their visitingrelatives.I should have gone to see Gram and Gramps.Then I remember they re in Florida.It s 2:53 inthe afternoon and stores are closing down.I buy a bottle of schnapps at Al s and stow it in my overcoatpocket.Then I hop on the El at Belmont and ride downtown.It s a gray day, and cold.The train is halffull, mostly people with their kids going down to see Marshall Field s Christmas windows and do lastminute shopping at Water Tower Place.I get off at Randolph and Walk east to Grant Park.I stand on Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlthe IC overpass for a while, drinking, and then I walk down to the skating rink.A few couples and littlekids are skating.The kids chase each other and skate backward and do figure eights.I rent a pair ofmore-or-less my size skates, lace them on, and walk onto the ice.I skate the perimeter of the rink,smoothly and without thinking too much.Repetition, movement, balance, cold air.It s nice.The sun issetting.I skate for an hour or so, then return the skates, pull on my boots, and walk.I walk west on Randolph, and south on Michigan Avenue, past the Art Institute.The lions are deckedout in Christmas wreathes.I walk down Columbus Drive.Grant Park is empty, except for the crows,which strut and circle over the evening-blue snow.The streetlights tint the sky orange above me; it s adeep cerulean blue over the lake [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Infact, I was pretty much unhurt, just in shock. How.why do you think it happened? Stress pure fear.I think my body did the only trick it could. Clare turns her face to mine, sad and excited. So. So.Mom died, and I didn t.The front end of the Ford crumpled up, the steering column went throughMom s chest, her head went through the now empty windshield and into the back of the truck, there wasanunbelievable amount of blood.The guy in the Corvette was unscathed.The truck driver got out of histruck to see what hit him, saw Mom, fainted on the road and was run over by a school bus driver whodidn t see him and was gawking at the accident.The truck driver had two broken legs.Meanwhile, I wascompletely absent from the scene for ten minutes and forty-seven seconds.I don t remember where Iwent; maybe it was only a second or two for me.Traffic came to a complete halt.Ambulances weretrying to come from three different directions and couldn t get near us for half an hour.Paramedics camerunning on foot.I appeared on the shoulder.The only person who saw me appear was a little girl; shewas in the back seat of a green Chevrolet station wagon.Her mouth opened, and she just stared andstared. But Henry, you were you said you don t remember.And how could you know this anyway? Tenminutes and forty-seven seconds? Exactly? I am quiet for a while, searching for the best way to explain. You know about gravity, right? The largersomething is, the more mass it has, the more gravitational pull it exerts? It pulls smaller things to it, and Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlthey orbit around and around? Yes. My mother dying.it s the pivotal thing.everything else goes around and around it.I dream about it,and I also time travel to it.Over and over.If you could be there, and could hover over the scene of theaccident, and you could see every detail of it, all the people, cars, trees, snowdrifts if you had enoughtime to really look at everything, you would see me.I am in cars, behind bushes, on the bridge, in a tree.I have seen it from every angle, I am even a participant in the aftermath: I called the airport from a nearbygas station to page my father with the message to come immediately to the hospital.I sat in the hospitalwaiting room and watched my father walk through on his way to find me.He looks gray and ravaged.Iwalked along the shoulder of the road, waiting for my young self to appear, and I put a blanket aroundmy thin child s shoulders.I looked into my small uncomprehending face, and I thought.I thought. I amweeping now.Clare wraps her arms around me and I cry soundlessly into her mohair-sweatered breasts. What? What, Henry? I thought,I should have died, too ! We hold each other.I gradually get hold of myself.I have made a mess of Clare s sweater.She goes tothe laundry room and comes back wearing one of Alicia s white polyester chamber music playing shirts.Alicia is only fourteen, but she s already taller and bigger than Clare.I stare at Clare, standing before me,and I am sorry to be here, sorry to ruin her Christmas. I m sorry, Clare.I didn t mean to put all this sadness on you.I just find Christmas.difficult. Oh, Henry! I m so glad you re here, and, you know, I d rather know I mean, you just come out ofnowhere, and disappear, and if I know things, about your life, you seem more.real.Even terrible things.I need to know as much as you can say. Alicia is calling down the stairs for Clare.It is time for Clare tojoin her family, to celebrate Christmas.I stand, and we kiss, cautiously, and Clare says Coming! andgives me a smile and then she s running up the stairs.I prop the chair under the door again and settle infor a long night.CHRISTMAS EVE, TWOSaturday, December 24, 1988 (Henry is 25)Henry:I call Dad and ask if he wants me to come over for dinner after the Christmas matinee concert.He makes a half-hearted attempt at inviting me but I back out, to his relief.The Official DeTamble Day ofMourning will be conducted in multiple locations this year.Mrs.Kim has gone to Korea to visit hersisters; I ve been watering her plants and taking in her mail.I call Ingrid Carmichel and ask her to comeout with me and she reminds me, crisply, that it s Christmas Eve and some people have families tokowtow to.I run through my address book.Everyone is out of town, or in town with their visitingrelatives.I should have gone to see Gram and Gramps.Then I remember they re in Florida.It s 2:53 inthe afternoon and stores are closing down.I buy a bottle of schnapps at Al s and stow it in my overcoatpocket.Then I hop on the El at Belmont and ride downtown.It s a gray day, and cold.The train is halffull, mostly people with their kids going down to see Marshall Field s Christmas windows and do lastminute shopping at Water Tower Place.I get off at Randolph and Walk east to Grant Park.I stand on Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlthe IC overpass for a while, drinking, and then I walk down to the skating rink.A few couples and littlekids are skating.The kids chase each other and skate backward and do figure eights.I rent a pair ofmore-or-less my size skates, lace them on, and walk onto the ice.I skate the perimeter of the rink,smoothly and without thinking too much.Repetition, movement, balance, cold air.It s nice.The sun issetting.I skate for an hour or so, then return the skates, pull on my boots, and walk.I walk west on Randolph, and south on Michigan Avenue, past the Art Institute.The lions are deckedout in Christmas wreathes.I walk down Columbus Drive.Grant Park is empty, except for the crows,which strut and circle over the evening-blue snow.The streetlights tint the sky orange above me; it s adeep cerulean blue over the lake [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]